


for if you cannot fly

by paperwar



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperwar/pseuds/paperwar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more than one kind of power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for if you cannot fly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [volta_arovet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/volta_arovet/gifts).



"It's kind of fuzzy," Tanuma's shoulders hunched. "I can't really explain it."

Taki put her hand on his arm; his skin was warm from the sun coming in through the window of his room, where they sat with cups of tea. "It's all right," she said. "It's not the kind of thing that's easy to talk about, is it?"

Tanuma gave her a grateful look. "Well, there's this," he said, pointing up. Taki's eyes followed his finger. She squinted at the perfectly ordinary ceiling. 

"You can't see it." Tanuma didn't need to make it a question. His face looked like he'd swallowed something sour. "That's pretty much the only thing I can see. Water."

"Water?"

"Ripples. Reflections. Sun on a pond." He gestured outside the window. Taki craned her neck: it was all grass. "Yeah," Tanuma said. "I don't see it either. I always thought the light on the ceiling was kind of a memory of a pond. Something like that." He rested his head against the wall and sighed. 

"Natsume-kun can see it?" 

Tanuma nodded. "Well... that's it. That's what I see. Sometimes... sometimes I see shadows." He rubbed his eyes. "Though usually I know that something's there because I get a headache or start feeling sick. Useless."

"No!" Taki said, shaking her head. "That's not useless. That's amazing, that you can sense things like that." She twisted her fingers together in her lap. "I can't see youkai or sense them at all if they're not in a circle." She exhaled in a frustrated huff. "So if anyone's useless here, it's me." 

"Don't say that." Tanuma sat up again, reaching out to touch her hand. Their eyes met, and he flushed as he let her fingers go. "You know so much. All those things your grandfather taught you. They're useful."

Her smile was a wistful little half-thing; it felt like it didn't belong on her face. "I don't know. Compared to Natsume-kun..."

Tanuma snorted. "Compared to Natsume, I think most people are completely helpless. Well, I guess we're one step up from them, anyway."

Her smile strengthened, felt less like it was in actuality a frown. "That's true. I just wish there was more we could do."

A faint rattle sounded outside the window, just as Tanuma winced. "I think there's something -- " 

Taki scrambled to her feet and stuck her head through the open window. Nothing. She couldn't see anything. Of course.

Tanuma gritted his teeth and said, "I don't think it's anything big. Or I'd be worse than this." He made a face. 

The noise repeated. Was it a cough? Someone dragging a stick against the house?

"Maybe I should draw a circle," Taki said. There was an instant where she felt herself as she'd been a little over a year ago: a gargantuan youkai towering over her, leering. She blinked hard, twice, to clear her head. No. This felt like the right thing to do. And there was Tanuma with her.

When the two of them were standing in the fresh air at the side of the house, Tanuma seemed less affected, though his face was still drawn. "Would here be all right?" Taki asked, scanning the ground for a stick. 

Tanuma disappeared for a moment and returned with a broom. "That's all we have, I think. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. Thank you." Taki flipped it upside down. "Let's see. Where do you think the pond is? Here, maybe?" She indicated a patch of grass and stepped three careful paces away. "I don't want to make the poor youkai stand in water!"

Tanuma glanced at the ceiling of his bedroom, then to where Taki was pointing. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down. "I'm not sure. I don't know how big the pond is. But if you move over to the side" -- he gestured further towards the back of the house -- "you'll probably be fine."

"Okay." Taki pursed her lips as she looked around. Making a discernible pattern in the lush grass would be difficult. And it wouldn't be something she could just scuff out with her shoe. What would Tanuma's father think of seeing that on his temple grounds?

Tanuma seemed to sense the reason for her hesitation. "Oh. Maybe we should find some paper after all." 

"Youkai-san," Taki called out. "Please wait! We're trying to find a way to speak with you. Please don't go anywhere! Please be patient!"

"I'll go see if I can find something." Tanuma headed inside. He returned with a few pages of newspaper and a roll of tape. "I'm sorry," he said as he thrust them at her. "I couldn't think of anything else."

"No, no, this will be fine," Taki said, almost ripping the pages in her hurry to tape them into a large square. "I should've thought of this." Once she'd drawn the design, she laid it on the ground, weighting down one corner with the tape. "Youkai-san! Please come and speak with us!" She and Tanuma knelt, eyeing the circle. 

"Do you still feel it?" Taki whispered. 

"Yeah. Whatever it is, it's still here." 

They waited, Taki's heart pounding. What should they do if nothing showed up? 

And then a gaunt figure staggered into the circle and stared up at them. Humanoid in shape, it was only about knee height on Taki, she estimated, with a craggy face -- including a beaklike nose -- and worn, but neat, clothes. Lank hair was tied back loosely at its neck. It coughed, a heavy sound that wracked its entire upper body: the sound that Taki and Tanuma had heard from within the house.

"I'm... looking for Natsume-sama," it said, folding onto its knees, a motion that took several of Taki's heartbeats, quick as they were right now, to complete.

Taki and Tanuma's eyes met in mixed thrill and worry.

"What would you like to see him about?" Taki said slowly. 

"My... name..." the youkai coughed. "Before I die, I would like my name back."

"Name?" Taki looked at Tanuma. He didn't know what the youkai was talking about either.

"You know Natsume-sama, don't you?" The youkai raised its head and met their gazes in turn. "I heard you talking about him."

"Yes. He... has something of yours?" Tanuma drew out the words uncertainly.

The youkai was seized with coughing again. When it finished, sucking in a breath, it snapped, "My name! In the book!" Glaring, or at least as much as it could given its condition, it said, "Natsume-sama will know what to do." It slumped, making the newspaper crinkle, and said, "I don't have much time left. Please."

The look Taki exchanged with Tanuma was less thrilled, more worried this time. What if they brought it to Natsume and it attacked? What if, instead of helping, they made things worse? The gulf between what she and Tanuma knew, and what Natsume knew, had never felt wider. 

"What should we do?" Tanuma whispered. "Do you think we should -- "

He was interrupted by another cough; the youkai was bent almost double by the strength of it. Once it could speak again, it said, "I promise you, I bear him no ill-will. I just want my name back."

Taki and Tanuma backed away a few steps. "What if it's lying?" Tanuma ran his hand through his hair, a gesture Taki already recognized as one he used when he was afraid.

"What if it's not?" Taki countered. The youkai was now curling up on the circle; she could see it trembling, as if it felt cold, there in the full late afternoon sun. "How can we tell?"

"I think we just have to decide." Tanuma's eyes were wild. "Maybe we should do it."

Taki's brow creased into what felt like a million folds. "When you sense things from youkai, what does it mean?" She saw his puzzlement and hurried on, "Do you not feel well because a youkai is powerful, or because it's malicious?"

Tanuma stared for a second. "I'm... I'm not sure." He whipped his head back to look at the youkai, whose every breath was still audible. "That one gave me a headache, but it didn't feel bad, exactly." He frowned. "Maybe I was feeling its pain? Or maybe it used to be powerful and that's what I was sensing? I don't know, I don't know."

"Let's do it," Taki said, biting her lip as soon as the words were out. Relief flooded her when Tanuma nodded; it might be the wrong decision, but at least they'd ended the agony of having to make one. 

They returned to the youkai. "Excuse me," Taki said, dropping to her knees next to the newspaper. "We'll take you to Natsume-kun now. I'm sorry for the delay."

It opened an eye. "Thank you." A trace of a smile crossed its face.

Their mission was slowed further while she and Tanuma considered how best to carry the youkai; they ended up scooping the newspaper into a bag, which Taki put over her shoulder. "That way we can make sure you're still there," she told it. She got a wan smile in response.

"Let's hope Natsume's at home," Tanuma murmured as they set off, Taki keeping one hand on the bag to prevent it from jostling.

It was impossible to hurry without jarring the bag, even when Taki was taking every step with care. Every time they waited at a corner for the light to change, she peered at the youkai. Two streets before Natsume's house she gasped. She must be witnessing some trick of the light, an oddity produced somehow by the combination of the youkai and the newspaper and the bag. There was no way she was beginning to be able to see through him to the supermarket logo printed on the plastic, was there?

Natsume opened the door when they knocked, startlement giving way to delight when he saw them. Taki hoped what she carried didn't erase that smile.

"We've got a little problem," Taki said as she and Tanuma stepped out of their shoes. "Not a problem, really," she amended, waving her hands. "Just -- " She looked around.

"Touko-san is shopping and Shigeru-san is still at work," Natsume said to her unspoken question. A trace of worry swept over his face.

Taki lowered the bag to the ground and eased out the newspaper. The youkai, shuddering with coughs, nevertheless bowed once it was standing on the ground. "Natsume-sama, I've come to request my name."

Natsume's eyes flicked to Taki and Tanuma. He put his hands behind his back. "Your... name?" 

"Yes, before I die. You're Natsume who has the Book of Friends, aren't you?" it wheezed.

Again, Natsume's eyes flashed over to them. He shifted his weight between both feet, exhaling unevenly as he said, "Yes, that's right. I'll return your name." He ran upstairs and returned with a slim notebook. His eyes continued to dart nervously over to Taki and Tanuma as he murmured some words that Taki couldn't quite understand. The book flew open of its own accord. Natsume ripped out the page that it stopped on. 

When he put the paper in his mouth, Taki thought she could see traces of _something_ happening, some change in the air, some energy that flowed from Natsume to the youkai, still standing on the circle. She glanced at Tanuma, who nodded: he sensed something too.

The youkai straightened and sighed, weary gladness spreading over its face, before fading away, disintegrating in one long moment as they watched. "Thank you," she heard, the faintest of whispers before there was nothing left to see on the newspaper. Tanuma heard it too; she could tell from the way his eyes widened.

Natsume sunk to his knees with a thump. Taki dashed forward, catching him by the shoulder just before he fell over. Had they'd done the wrong thing, after all? Tanuma helped her move him to lean against the wall. "Natsume?" he asked, voice catching. 

"I'm all right," Natsume whispered, eyes closed, head tipped forward. "It's just... I get like this. Afterwards." His breathing shifted into the slower, deeper cadence that indicated sleep. 

Taki and Tanuma looked at each other. "We can't leave him here," Tanuma said. "Let's bring him upstairs." 

"We might wake him up," Taki said, but neither of them had any better suggestions. Natsume slumbered on the whole time they dragged him, arms around their shoulders, upstairs. Tanuma pulled out Natsume's futon and they lowered him, still asleep, down onto it.

For a minute or two they simply sat and watched him. "I guess there's nothing else to do," Taki said. "It feels wrong to leave him like this, though."

Tanuma nodded. "It seemed like this was normal for him, but..." He shrugged, raking his hand through his hair. "Probably Ponta will be back soon anyway."

"Oh, do you think so?" Taki said, clasping her hands together. 

Tanuma chuckled and stood. "We'd better go then for sure, or you might really wake Natsume up."

Taki pulled her lips down in a pout. "You're probably right." She rummaged in her bag and brought out a piece of paper. Tanuma raised an eyebrow. "We hope you're feeling better soon. See you at school tomorrow," she wrote. 

"Ah," he said. "In case he's worried about what we think. Good idea." They signed their names and she propped the note up on Natsume's desk. 

They went downstairs and let themselves out. Walking down the street, Taki said, "We'll have to ask him about this."

"Definitely." Tanuma stretched his arms up. "Now I'm the one feeling tired."

"How's your headache?"

"It's gone now. I'm all right." Tanuma yawned. 

They stopped at a traffic light, the last intersection before they split up to continue their journeys home. Taki crossed her arms, feeling a sudden chill. "I wonder if he'll tell us anything at all." 

"He's probably scared," Tanuma said. "So we'll just have to let him know that it's okay."

"You're right. We'll just have to make sure he gets it."

"That might take a while," Tanuma observed. Their eyes met in what Taki felt was perfect understanding. Then they both shrugged. They'd figure something out. Eventually. 

"See you at school," Taki said, waving as she left.


End file.
